Flowers To Pick
by SequinCannibal
Summary: There are a lot of sad stories in the fandom, so here's a happy little oneshot. Rated T due to a very vague mention of violence, just in case. Merry Christmas!


**So I've got some good news and bad news. I always like to have the good news to cushion me, so I'll start with the bad. The bad news is that the next update for "Cherry Ice" will be slightly delayed. The good news is that I am releasing this little oneshot in the spirit of Christmas and updates will resume shortly after this.**

**This was inspired by a picture I saw on Tumblr. I can't link it in this story, so feel free to visit my profile if you want to see it. I hope that all of you are having a Merry Christmas!**

* * *

That night continued on like any other. Alone in what was now barely anything more than a decorated cave, Pitch spent the night tossing around on the too-small mattress. The thought about it infuriated him really. He was the ruler of the night, the lord of terror, the king of fear! And what did he have to show for it? A dusty hole in the ground with rickety or broken furniture. Much of his grand lair had since fallen in on itself, leaving nothing but a void in its wake.

But what could he possibly do about it? He had lost. He was powerless. He didn't have a hope for revenge, or even death. And he had tried. He once threw himself down that void. When he hit the bottom he met pain so intense that it was almost numbing, but death did not accompany it. For days, he let himself lay down at the bottom of that hole before finally dusting himself off and beginning the climb back to the top.

So night after night, he slept down in his dim hole, plagued by the very nightmares that he had wished to inflict on the children of the world.

This particular night, his _home_ was especially cold. It was winter, after all. Above ground, everyone was inside their warm houses, each one decorated with various lights. Why, there were probably snowmen on every corner by now. It was that time of year again.

There were probably parents washing out cups of hot cocoa while their children slept peacefully in anticipation of what tomorrow would bring. It was, after all, Christmas Eve.

The nightmares didn't fail to return that night. They never did. They were always the same really. He was always invisible in them, with nobody to care if he existed or not. It was the worst feeling in the world and when he awoke, the feeling greeted him still. Because in reality, nobody cared.

He pulled himself out of his sleep-induced haze when he smelled something... off. It was actually pretty pleasant. It had been a while since he had smelled anything behind the mustiness that filled the cave.

He was wide awake when he heard a crackling noise. Was there an animal in his lair? He quickly swiped a hand through his hair before standing up to investigate. As he walked down the long hallway, he noticed a strange flickering coming from his main living space. He quickened up the pace, nearly jogging by the time he reached his destination.

He couldn't quite grasp what he found. At the far end of his living space was a small stack of logs with a fire crackling brightly on top of it. He hadn't had access to wood in a quite a while, so this was a bit confusing for him.

And above the fire was a decent sized hole to let the smoke out. To the average person, a hole in the ceiling might be something of an annoyance. To Pitch, however, this hole was hope. He leaned in over the flames, careful not to burn himself, and peered up the hole.

There were many rungs leading up. It was strange, no doubt, but why would he question it at this point? And at the top, there was a thick grate with bars and a comically large padlock hanging from it. Bright, pure sunlight filtered down through the bars, blinding Pitch for a few moments. It had be far too long since he had seen any sunlight. Once his eyes finally adjusted he could see the pale blue of the sky above. Who knew that the master of the dark would missed daylight so much?

The heat finally starting to sear his skin, Pitch was forced to step back from the flames. We could always try to escape later. He turned around to make his way back to his bedroom, only to discover a new scene. Before him was the most beautiful, luscious spruce tree adorned with many bright lights and colorful ornaments. How could he have possibly missed it the first time?

Behind it was a crimson banner that read "Merry Christmas, Pitch!" in bold painted letters. He was stunned to say the least. He got a little bit closer to investigate, only to discover the strange mixture of cinnamon and peppermint filling his nose. Those Guardians had not only taken away his power, his dignity, and his reputation. Now they were mocking him!

He snatched a small piece of paper that was folded on one branch, opening it to see what kind of taunting spew they had in store for him.

* * *

_Naughty or nice, nobody should be alone on Christmas._

_~The Guardians_

* * *

He read the short note over many times in complete disbelief. Whatever sort of joke this was, it was sick. He clutched the note tightly with both hands, effectively wrinkling it, but just couldn't quite bring himself to tear it. He looked it over again before tossing it back into the branches of the tree.

He then examined the colorfully wrapped packages that rested beneath the tree. Surely _this_ would be the blunt of the joke. Why, they were probably all filled with coal at best. Maybe they were filled with rotten fruit or dirt. They could even be empty.

He grabbed at a blue one with a bright yellow ribbon on it first. From it was a tag that read "Toothiana". What could this Guardian possibly have in store for him? He quickly tore the paper off and opened the box to reveal... a yo-yo?

In his past life, he used to be able to do all kind of tricks with these. It had been something of a hobby for him. It would make sense that the Guardian of memories would know about his past life, but why would she ever do something like this for him? He had kept her precious fairies in cages above what was now just a void.

He shrugged, seeing if he could still do any of the tricks that he used to be so good at. After a few minutes, he managed to get a cradle going, but fell short after that and tangled the string. It had really been a long time since he had tried to play with one of these, so we was understandably rusty. After unraveling the knot in the string, he stuffed it in a pocket inside of his cloak before walking over to examine a large, green box.

It was from Bunnymund. Now clearly after wrecking Easter, he would receive a box full of maggots. The box was taller than he was, and certainly much wider. It was almost ridiculously oversized. Pitch put his ear to the side of the box to make sure it wasn't filled with rats or beetles, but found silence. He drew in a breath, grabbed a fold of paper from the side, and pulled.

It was a bed set. A brand new bed. There was a bed frame, a box spring, even a new mattress! Now this made him a little bit giddy. Pitch opened the packaging further to examine everything closer. The mattress was unbelievably soft. He pressed his hand down on it, feeling coils firmly supporting his hand underneath instead of sewing needles. He laid it out on the floor, failing to control a smile any longer.

Be rolled over on the mattress, reaching to grab a crudely wrapped silver package with a blue bow stuck crookedly on top. Jack Frost. As much as Pitch tried to guess what sort of horrors would await him on the inside, his suspicion were fading away. The package was small enough for him to tuck under his arm, but still of decent size. He had trouble opening this one due tot he excessive amounts of tape used, but found a set of forest green ice skates inside.

When you're busy terrorizing the youth of the world, you never really stop to learn to do things like how to skate on ice, but it was thoughtful nonetheless. Even though the floor of his abode was rock and dirt, Pitch tried them on anyways. A perfect fit.

Next, he reached for a flatter package wrapped in red. It was from Santa himself. Inside was a manila envelope with a note on it.

* * *

_I hope you've learned your lesson._

_~Santa Claus_

* * *

Pitch raised an eyebrow, a little confused by it until his had felt a strange bulge inside. He reached inside to find a large, metal key. It was much larger than it needed to be. Almost comically large. After all, What goes better with a comically large lock than a comically large key?

This key was his ticket out of this hole! He wanted to try it at once, but stopped himself to grab one last gift. It was a strangely shaped one. It was from the Sandman. Inside was a hollow tube. It was empty, which was probably deserve since Pitch had managed to kill him at one point. Still, he learned in for further inspection. He took just a small sniff before falling back onto his new mattress.

His head was suddenly very foggy, but he was relaxed. In only a few more brief moment, Pitch was asleep.

* * *

The fear that normally filled him as he slept was nowhere to be found this time. This time, he was out in a field. A young girl picking flowers approached him, asking him to help her gather a bunch of pink and yellow ones for her mother.

Dear old Sandy had given Pitch the gift of peaceful sleep, something that he had missed out on for quite some time. There were no grotesque monsters to tear at his flesh and he wasn't invisible. The nightmares were missing, peace left in their absence.

For the first time in centuries, Pitch felt a strange tingling from within. It was cool and refreshing, yet oh so warm. It was happiness. Something had changed within him. Even when the Guardians could have easily taunted him and crushed him, they chose to forgive him and give him the merriest Christmas he could remember.

When he woke up, he would be off to Burgess to ask a young boy and his little sister to teach him how to ice skate. That would have to wait though. Right now, he had flowers to pick.

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**I hope you guys enjoyed this little oneshot. There are a lot of really sad stories in this fandom, so I really wanted to inject something happy for Christmas. I hope that all of your Christmases are merry and bright! I'll see you back in Cherry Ice soon. Just remember that a part of the love, hope, wonder, and grace of Christmas is to sometimes forgive people who have hurt you. Even if they don't deserve a second chance, give it.**

**Be sure to review so that I know how I did, okay? Then go spend some more time with you family or friends. Merry Christmas!**


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